


Last Train Home

by TeamUnitedNerds



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 11:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamUnitedNerds/pseuds/TeamUnitedNerds
Summary: Ravil is a human, tasked with undoing the damage caused by the Z-Fighter's battles, and preventing potential threats to humanity before they escalate. This leads him to investigate a lead in a small, crime-ridden town, about the child of one of the Saiyans who invaded Earth.





	Last Train Home

When Ravil rode the train, he couldn’t help but wonder if the people around him were aware of the danger they were constantly in. If they knew how frequently some evil being with the ability and intent to wipe them all out would appear, only to be narrowly stopped by the so-called Z-Fighters.

Ravil was one of the few humans with active and thorough knowledge of everything that had happened to Earth over the last few decades. He knew of King Piccolo, and the Namekians, he knew of the Saiyan Invasion, he knew of Frieza, he knew of the Androids and Cell, and although he couldn’t remember it exactly, he had records written down that proved the existence of Majin Buu.

There was a practical side to destruction, and that practicality was Ravil’s job. It was his job to clean up after the damage that these battles caused, to assess and allocate resources to repair buildings that were destroyed, and to reduce public panic by downplaying the threat that humanity regularly faced. He was the one who determined how much money was needed to repair Amebo Island.

He didn’t exactly suppress information, the press was free to report on the Saiyan Invasion or the Cell games, and indeed they did. Ravil made sure, however, that the aftermath of those events was as minimal as possible, so the media and the general population would forget about them quickly, so they could go back to their normal, peaceful lives. The media couldn’t report on the Saiyan Invasion as a devastating, existentially terrifying event if the damage it caused was so swiftly erased.

He was responsible, however, for the narrative that Hercule was Earth’s true and only savior. The hero of Earth being a showy, traditionally heroic human who fought with his fists, rather than a reckless, battle-hungry alien who used planet-destroying energy beams was far more comforting. Hercule’s suggestion that ki blasts and flight were just a result of illusion and trickery was all his idea as well.

His final job was in threat prevention. The androids and Cell could’ve easily been averted, if only Dr. Gero’s lab had been located earlier. So, his employers requested that he search for potential threats originating from Earth, and stop them to the best of his ability, before the became costly-full blown disasters.

He was sure that the Z-Fighters would hate him for depriving them of potentially strong opponents, if they knew who he was, or that he was even doing so in the first place. But, he had a job to do.

His train arrived at the stop with an unnecessarily long and shrill hiss. The station was devastatingly hot compared to the air-conditioned train. Fortunately, the weather outside was mild, cooling his dark, sweat-glistening face.

The town he was in was an undeniable shithole, just outside of East City. It wasn’t destroyed by Nappa alongside the neighboring capital, but if it was, it would’ve been hard to tell the difference. Every third building seemed to be abandoned or destroyed, and a thick slurry of liquefied garbage flowed lazily next to every sidewalk.

If the government had the resources to repair the devastation left in the wake of the androids, they should be able to fix a town like this, but unfortunately, gang violence and natural disasters were low-priority compared to planet-destroying space aliens. Ravil couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the only way this neighborhood would get the funding it desperately needed was if some underling of Frieza decided to blow it up.

Ravil knew what he was looking for, but he didn’t exactly know where to find it. They certainly weren’t in prison, if they could be arrested, Ravil wouldn’t have been called in in the first place.

Ravil walked up and down a few blocks, glancing into each alleyway. Inevitably, he felt the presence of someone behind him before long.

“Hey, stranger,” a raspy voice said. “Why’s someone from out of town looking around so much, huh? You a cop? The Moonboys don’t appreciate cops in our territory”

Ravil turned around, and tried his best to suppress a chuckle. The “man” who had attempted to intimidate him couldn’t have been more than 20. His face was almost comically pale, and his chin possessed the slightest hint of a beard, with scraggly strands of black hair sticking out at odd angles. He was thin, but fit and wirely, and he held a knife, in a stance that indicated that he hadn’t used it before. His chin had a single tattoo, a dark blue crescent-moon shape.

“Government, actually,” Ravil said, reaching into his coat and pulling out his badge. “I take it that the ‘Moonboys’ are the gang you belong you?”

“You’re damn right they are! And like I said, they own this town, and they don’t want any cops, or any government guys poking around in their business!” he got closer, clutching the knife tightly, his knuckles flushing white.

“And if I don’t leave, are you going to stab me?”

“Y-yeah, probably!”

“Go ahead, then,” Ravil replied, hands in his pockets.

“W-what? Do you not get what’s going on here, old man?”

“I understand perfectly. Show me how tough you are.”

“F-fine!” the young gangster rushed at him, hand outstretched, knife aimed at Ravil’s chest.

Ravil removed his hands from his pocket, and then, struck the gangster’s wrist with the side of his hand. The impact made him drop the knife, which splattered into a puddle of garbage water.

“Oh, shit! Look what you made me-”

Ravil followed this up with a devastating punch to the young man’s face, that definitely loosened a couple of teeth.

“H-hey, what the fuck!” the gangster said, dropping to one knee, clutching his cheeks, eyes welling up with tears.

“Sorry,” Ravil said. “But, in all fairness, you were going to stab me.”

“F-fuck you! You’ll really regret this when the Crusher gets here!”

“Ahhhh, that sounds promising.” Ravil mused.

“Yeah, you fucking bet!”

The gangster pulled a device out of his pocket, a small, crude variation on a phone. He hastily punched in some numbers with his non-injured hand.

“S-she’ll be here right away, you’ll see! She’ll kick your ass, you have no idea!”

“Well, you should probably leave then,” Ravil replied.

“Yeah, no shit!” the gangster said, putting the phone back into his pocket and scrambling away.

Ravil sat himself on a nearby bench, as there was nothing else to do until this so-called “Crusher” arrived. He pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pocket, and then a lighter. But, right when he was about to have a nice smoke, she arrived.

This “Crusher” was a hulking, muscular woman, taller and broader than Ravil by quite a bit. Her face still carried some youthful softness and vulnerability, however, which she chose to cover up with a perpetual scowl. Her eyes and her hair were dark, and her hair seemed to be completely shaved off on one side, and long on the other, in a sort of punk-ish or hipstery way. At least, that’s what Ravil figured, his fashion sense was blatantly archaic, given his choice of headwear. And, just like the young man, she had a crescent moon tattooed on her cheek.

“So, I assume you’re the Crusher?” Ravil asked, still seated at his bench.

“Yeah, and I hear you’re some government guy who’s been poking around our neighborhood, and you beat the shit out of one of our guys.”

Ravil nodded, placing the lit cigarette in his mouth. “You smoke?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, slightly puzzled.

“Here,” Ravil said, offering her a lit cigarette.

“Real quality stuff, try it.”

She took the cigarette, not sure what to make of this. She took a single puff, and then started coughing relentlessly, smoke coming out of her nose.

“Fuck!” she said, after finally clearing her throat.

“Hey, it’s fine, first time’s hard for everyone.”

She somehow managed to achieve an expression that was more full of contempt than her default scowl, as she glared at Ravil.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be taking cigarettes from you! I’m here to kick your ass! Don’t think I’m like that last guy, either, I know how to fight!”

“Oh, I know you do,” he said. “You’ve always been incredibly strong. Too strong, even. When other guys would leave bruises, you’d turn a guy’s entire head into red mist with one punch, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” she said, clenching her fist. “And I’ll be doing that to you in a second if you don’t get the hell out of here.”

“But that’s not all you can, do, right? You can do other things, things more dangerous than punches, things that frighten even you.”

She flinched, as if an electric shock had run through her body.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My name’s Ravil, and I work for the government,” he said, showing his badge. “I’ve come here looking for a particular person, and I have every reason to believe that you are them. I’m sure you’ve lived your entire life confused, and angry, wondering where you came from and why you are the way you are. I can explain everything, and I have no intentions of hurting or arresting you, as long as you cooperate. But, if you’d rather kill me, that’s your choice. Otherwise, take a seat, and let’s talk.”

She hesitated, and then, she sat herself beside him on the bench. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, and half of Ravil’s ass was hanging off the bench to make room for her, but it worked well enough.

“My name’s Deni,” she said suddenly. “I’ve lived in this town for as long as I can remember, and I’ve been the muscle for the Moonboys for that long too. I have no idea who the fuck either of my parents are. But you probably already know all that shit, right?”

“Well, not all of it,” Ravil said, pulling a clipboard, a stack of papers, and a pen out of his coat, as he hastily wrote something down on her file.

“Can I have another cigarette?” she asked.

Ravil handed her a second one, which she managed to smoke cleanly without choking.

“You know, it wasn’t my first time smoking, before. I just thought you were trying to like, poison me or something.”

“Yeah, of course,” Ravil said. “Do you recall the Saiyan Invasion? From around 19 years ago?”

Deni shook her head. “No, never heard of anything like that. We don’t really get TV out here. And if it’s 19 years ago I would’ve been a baby back then.”

“Right, of course, stupid question. Well, around 19 years ago, the Earth was invaded by two warriors from a humanoid race of aliens called the Saiyans. One was named Nappa, and the other Vegeta. Nappa was the weaker of the two, and was killed during the battle. I have reason to suspect that he is your father, and that fact is why I was supposed to find you in the first place.”

Deni coughed up another lungful of smoke.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The Saiyans were a conquering warrior race, and they often tended to get frisky with the locals of the planets they invaded. There’s some unaccounted time between when he arrived on Earth and when he-”

“Is this some kind of joke?” she spat.

“Absolutely not. It explains why you’re so exceptionally powerful, why you have mastery over energy, and-”

“What about my mother?”

“An ordinary human.”

“Is she still alive?”

“Yes, but I can’t take you to her, or tell you who she is, unfortunately. She requested that we keep her identity confidential, as, well, she didn’t want to advertise the fact that she willingly offered herself to some alien…”

“Fine, whatever. If she abandoned me, she can fucking die for all I care, I want nothing to do with her.”

“Of course, this is just a theory. I can’t confirm that you’re half-Saiyan, unless, well…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you, uh, remove your pants.”

Deni wasn’t sure if she wanted to react with rage or embarrassment. “Man, if this is all some weird sex shit, there’s a much easier way to do this, you know.”

“You don’t need to pull them down all the way. If you have it, you know what I’m looking for.”

Deni sighed, as her brown-furred simian tail popped out of the waistband of her shorts. “It’s flexible,” she said, swishing it around to prove her point.

“I assume all ‘Saiyans’ have a tail like this?” she asked.

Ravil nodded.

“And was my dad a beefy motherfucker? Cause I don’t think I got this body from my mom.”

“Here’s a picture,” he said, handing her a photograph that some brave journalist took of Nappa during the invasion.

“Yeah, that looks about right,” she said. “Explains why I’m totally fucking bald on one side of my head too. At least my dad’s not the short one, right?

Ravil rose from the bench, and let out a long, smoky sigh.

“It’s getting late, last train home will be leaving pretty soon. We can keep talking if you come with me. Train’s usually just about empty at this point, so you can stretch out or smoke if you want.”

“Sounds like heaven,” she said, following him to the station.

When they got on, the car was indeed completely empty, and the other cars only had a scant few people strewn about, stragglers trying to get home at the last possible minute.

“So, I’m really like, half-alien?”

“Yes,” he said. “And you’re not the only one, I’ve documented a few other Saiyan-human hybrids.”

“You’re not taking me back there, right?”

“Not unless you want to go.”

“Nah, I hated all that gang shit. It made me money, yeah, but I hate taking orders.”

“You’ve been pretty compliant so far.”

“Well, yeah, cause I wanted to.”

Deni laid back on the row of seats, stretching herself out.

“So, tell me more about the Saiyans. I assume they have monkey tails, and can shoot lasers and shit, right?”

He nodded. “They’re an old, mostly-extinct race of fierce warriors from a distant, destroyed planet. They were known throughout the galaxy for their fighting spirit.”

“Are all Saiyans like that?” she asked. “Like, fighters and shit?”

“Besides a few exceptions, yes.”

Deni let out a long sigh. “You know, ever since I was young...I just couldn’t help myself. I always got into fights, always beat people up. Sometimes kill them, too. It’s like...whenever I could get angry, I did. I never told myself to stop, never cooled myself down, because it felt so fucking good. To be angry, to be powerful. And to make someone else hurt, and make them weaker. It’s the only time I felt like myself. My dad was the same way, right?”

“Reports suggest that he was, yes,” Ravil said, angry at himself for his cold, distant phrasing.

“Yeah, that sucks. I’ve always been a shitty person, but it’s nice to know why, at least.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Ravil said.

“That’s because you don’t know me.”

Deni sat back up, and wrapped her hands around an armrest, crushing it in her grip.

“It’s not fucking fair, you know! It’s like, everyone else gets to decide if they want to be a good person or not. But I never got that chance. And knowing why I was born shitty doesn’t make it any better.”

The train chugged along noisily.

“Listen,” Ravil said. “I’ve spent my entire life chasing disasters and evil. I’ve seen what evil looks like up close. And I’ve seen you. You’re not what evil looks like. It’s a lot easier to believe that you’re just broken and that you can never get better, rather than accepting that you can change, and making that change, even if it’s difficult. You’ve done bad things, and you probably want to continue doing them, but for you sake, and for the sake of everyone else on Earth, I won’t allow you to believe that you can’t do better.”

“You’re a cunt, you know that?” Deni said half-affectionately, as the train finally stopped at the station.

Deni let Ravil leave the train first, as she knew she’d have some difficulty squeezing her way out.

“So, where are you taking me? Jail, or to a lab to get dissected?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll have to submit a report to my agency, and they’ll evaluate it from there. You don’t seem to be that much of an active risk, but that’s not for me to decide, unfortunately. In the meantime, you can stay at my apartment. They probably want me to put you in custody, but if you wanted to, you could break out of any jail cell, right?”

Deni shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

“This way, then,”

Ravil lead her to his apartment, with a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room, lit by a dull, cozy yellow light. He hung up his hat and trenchcoat at the door, and slipped on a pair of comfortably, fluffy slippers.

“Man, this place is pretty small. Even for like, a normal-sized person.”

“I think it’s nice,” Ravil said, somewhat offended.

Deni turned around, suddenly, without provocation.

“I want to kill you, you know. I really, really want to kill you.”

Ravil took a seat down on his couch.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve wanted to kill you this whole time. You think you know me? You’re a puny human, and I’m from a proud, ancient warrior race! You should be groveling at my feet, not lecturing me about whether or not I’m evil! Well, I am evil, motherfucker! I’ll burn this whole planet to the ground! I’ll make everyone worship me as a goddess! You should’ve killed me or sent me to prison when you had the chance.”

“You know what?” Ravil said. “Go ahead and try. Go ahead and kill me, and destroy this city. See how far you can get. The defenders of Earth, the Z-Fighters, they have a power that you can’t even comprehend. You’re nothing compared to your father, and your father was nothing compared to them. They’ve traded blows with tyrants and gods. Do you think that you, some shitty, bratty, angry girl is even worth acknowledging as a threat to them?”

“You don’t know how strong I am!” she said. “And it doesn’t matter if they stop me! They won’t be able to reverse all the damage I’ll do!”

“You’re right, because that’s my job!” Ravil shouted. “Do you know why you didn’t know about your father invading Earth before today? Or why names like Piccolo and Frieza and Goku mean nothing to you? That’s all because of me! Frieza once had the entire universe in his clutches, and he almost destroyed the Earth twice! Ask anyone on any street who Frieza is, and they won’t be able to tell you. That’s because of me. They Z-Fighters defeat Earth’s enemies physically, but I’m the one who really destroys them. I make sure that they’re not remembered, and that every evil deed they do is undone. And even if you kill me, someone else will step up and take my job. I can’t hurt you, if I hit you, it probably wouldn’t leave a scratch, but if you really want to threaten humanity, I will not hesitate to destroy you the only way I know how!”

“F-fuck! I didn’t mean, I mean, I don’t want to...god, fuck me, I’m suck a fuckup!” Demi said, voice weak at first, and then booming.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from beyond Ravil’s apartment door, with the unmistakable tone of a sweet old lady. “I’m sure you two are working some stuff out, and that’s fine, but I need to get my beauty sleep, so could you please keep it down a little bit? Thank you, and Kami bless.”

Deni took the seat on the couch next to Ravil, making it creak dangerously.

“I don’t want to want to hurt anyone,” she said.

“I know.”

The pair had a smoke together, and drifted off as they imagined the train rushing noisily across the tracks in the smooth stillness of the starry night.


End file.
